In The Pale Moonlight
by Dromiceius
Summary: The road to 'El' is paved with ideas that seemed better when someone was waving a bag of money under your nose. As Kashya learns, it isn't actually history that repeats, but tragedy.


She was good; the bodies of her enemies were scattered like breadcrumbs, forming a bloody path through the demon-infested cave to the corner where she now found herself trapped, surrounded, and out of arrows. She had relied on intuition to keep her footing and keep out of reach of her enemies as she backpedaled hither and thither through the dank cave, furiously launching arrow after arrow into the tribe of impish bastards until she finally ran out of ammunition.

They circled around her, eyeing her like a piece of meat, and occasionally ejaculating a phrase or war cry in the hell-tongue reserved for them- the least of the devilkin. They were weak, diminutive creatures, stringy and lean, but dangerous in clusters. Like malformed children, their heads were too large for their bodies, and the fact that they looked so much like children made it all the more unnerving to consider that they represented all that was wretched in humanity. They sought not only to devour the girl, as they were strictly carnivores, and meat -particularly the delectable flesh of a human girl- was hard to come by.

She looked for any way out, maintaining a trained calm, despite being faced with what would undoubtedly be a brutal final confrontation, leading to a methodical and agonizing death. The walls were sheer rock; she couldn't get a foothold by which to climb up and out of the reach of their scimitars, even as a last-ditch effort to buy time, maybe for someone to come to her rescue. _Certainly not that damnable necromancer_, she thought to herself, bitterly. _Devil take his soul for abandoning me here!_

A whimper escaped her lips as she was struck by the improbability of her getting out alive. The heel of her boot unconsciously slid up and down along the wall. No way out. The demons began yelping to one another, as some kind of signal to advance. The dam broke, and total panic set in. They became more excited the more terrified she became, screaming and clawing at the walls. As the tribe closed in, the all-too-human shrieks of delight all but choked out the sobs of a girl, alone in the dark.

She was good... but not good enough.

--------

"You want... what? I think I must have misheard you."

"I want all of them," repeated the stranger, who had introduced himself as Natash El Firecull, the son of a philanthropist from the east, whose intent it was to wipe out the opposing forces.

"The scouts aren't for sale, and I only lend them out as mercenaries to those who prove their intent." Kashya's eyes narrowed in amusement as a barb formed on the tip of her tongue. "And, of course, their ability to do more than beat up a few shambling corpses."

The handsome young man thought about this for a moment, cleaning the lenses of his glasses, before shrugging and replying, "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do to convince you on either count. But what about collateral?"

"Collateral? There's that sense of humor again. Listen, why don't you--"

"See for yourself," he interrupted, taking a leather bag from his belt a leather bag about the size of his head, and presenting it to the commander. She looked at it dubiously before taking it, as if it might explode or be full of cockroaches. Reasoning that the man before her has motives other than suicide, she untied the twine that held the bag shut, and began examining the contents. She was more than a touch incredulous at what she saw.

"Do we have a deal?" The stranger ran the side of his thumb across his carefully manicured goatee, awaiting the response.

"This has got to be worth 10,000 gold," she said, distractedly.

"I had it all appraised," he replied, coolly. "All of it, down to the last ring. The value is no less than 180,000, though estimates vary, you understand. There's a lot you could do for this 'hovel' with that much, you must admit, and you must also recognize that your scouts would be safer in a group than they would be scattered amongst unaccountable adventurers... Yes?"

"Can't disagree with you there." Kashya noticed the arrogant smirk Natash had greeted her with had returned. "But I can't allow--"

"But you can! You must. Think about it."

Kashya's eyes locked hard onto those of Natash, who stared back with an unassuming air. For a moment, they remained silent, each waiting for the other to overplay their hand. Kashya wasn't about to become a robber or murderer, nor could the camp survive for much longer without some kind of aid. Her eyes glanced toward the entrance on her left, as a group of rogues returned from a training session in a nearby clearing.

"Why don't we ask them what THEY want," he asked, now grinning widely, and still staring Kashya in the eyes. "That would be the fair thing to do, would it not?" He asked this loudly enough for the rogues to overhear. Curious, they approached.

Kashya did not like how the situation was escalating, and was sickened by the thought of what might happen if she should fail to protect her charges. Yet her scruples demanded that she allow them to choose for themselves.

"This man is a liar and a cad. I don't know what he--"

Groaning and snapping of wood cut her off. Everyone simultaneously looked up as one of the huge beams which formed the wall of the encampment broke free of its supports, lurched out of alignment, and came crashing down onto Kashya's tent, only feet from where Kashya happened to be standing. The entire camp scrambled, first making sure that nobody was harmed, and then to see that the rest of the wall wasn't about to collapse upon itself.

"You were saying?" Natash said, crossing his arms. "Believe me, this is your only chance to defeat Andariel. You don't presume to hole up in this... place forever, do you?"

The rogues looked to one another with a mixture of offense and the grim understanding that he was absolutely right.

-------

The day passed uneventfully. The scouts rested, armed themselves as best they could, even using some of the rings that Natash had used to pay for their service. The sun bid them farewell, painting the sky in resplendent hues of pink and orange. As it sank below the horizon, a full moon cast a ghostly pallor on the girls as they waited for the other shoe to drop.

One such girl gladly accepted a ring of alacrity offered by Natash, who had in like fashion gained the confidence of some of the rogues.

"I 'ope Kashya'll be all right," she remarked to the young man, who listened attentively. "This place is goin' to 'ell in an 'andbasket."

"You needn't worry about that, little lady," he replied with a twinkle in his eye.

"Eh? What do you know about it?"

"Why, I know ALL about it. You forget- 'El' is my middle name!"

She chuckled dryly, and decided it was a good time to stock her quiver. Natash grinned, rubbing his hands together as he watched her go.

A necromancer jogged into camp just then, corking a white flask and tucking it into a pocket of his white robe. White, that is, except for the blood around the cuffs and ankles. Five skeletons followed a few seconds after, causing mild alarm and raising the general tension in the air.

"Ah! Lazarus, my old friend. Good of you to show up. We had almost gone to scour the church catacombs without you."

"My apologies. I had a slight inconvenience to disp--"

"Yes, yes. No need for excuses. You're here now and... I presume you're ready to leave at once?"

"More or less."

"Good, good. No sense wasting time." Natash pulled on a pair of leather gloves as he spoke. "I want you and your minions on point- no sense taking unnecessary risks until victory is quite assured. Are we clear?"

"Perfectly."

Kashya was left alone, except for a few rogues who were too injured to leave, who were sleeping inside a tent, and Akara. The latter had remained in her tent since hearing about the offer, and failing to convince the rogues to decline it. Kashya clutched the bag of trinkets with the inescapable feeling that she'd just fallen on her own sword. _Nothing left to do but pray,_ she thought, even though she wouldn't allowing herself to hope that she would see any of them again as they faded into the surrounding darkness, and the sound of their voices faded to nothingness. Alone, in the pale moonlight, she could swear she heard the sound of choked sobbing.


End file.
